


a glint of light on broken glass

by red_streaks



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, tw: derogatory slurs at HB
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 07:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14373639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_streaks/pseuds/red_streaks
Summary: Mildred, who doesn’t quite understand why Maud is wielding a ladle over her head or how the situation unraveled so quickly, stumbles forward and her cauldron goes tipping precariously.And Miss Hardbroom, who should really be less surprised that a fist fight has erupted at Mildred Hubble’s station, appears suddenly at the end of the table and can’t quite contain her anger at the sight in front of her.Because directly below her towering frame are four little witches breaking at least thirty subsections of the Witches Code.Enid Nightshade – one knee resting firmly on the table as she climbs atop – has one hand tangled in Gertrude Merryweather’s smock and another dipped rather unfortunately in salamander eye juice. Gertrude Merryweather, tugging sharply at the end of Mildred Hubble’s braid, has her fist raised high in the air. And Mildred Hubble, face scrunched up with righteous anger and pain, has her entire palm pressed firmly against Gertrude’s forehead, impeding the other girl from advancing any further.***or, mildred looses her cool and, to the surprise of everybody, punches someone that's not ethel





	a glint of light on broken glass

**Author's Note:**

> hellooo
> 
> so i've been wanting to publish this for a while and haven't been able to finish it, and so i've decided to split it into three chapters
> 
> tw: HB is called a derogatory word by a student, and mildred jumps to the rescue
> 
> please let me know what you think!

Honest to God, it’s not Mildred’s fault.

 

At least not _this_ time.

 

So maybe she threw the first punch in the potions lab, and maybe she upended her cauldron and maybe Miss Hardbroom’s shoes are now a ghastly pink, but this time it definitely, absolutely does _not_ start with Mildred.

 

Except it maybe,  _kinda_ does? Mildred is only two percent responsible for this. Definitely in the single numbers.

 

Either way, this time she has a good reason - a very, very good reason that she absolutely cannot tell anyone. If Maud and Enid hadn’t been witness to the whole thing, she probably wouldn’t have told them.

 

The point, she thinks as Miss Hardbroom takes a deep steadying breath and pink smoke comes out of her ears, is that this time, Mildred Hubble does _not_ deserve detention.

 

*

 

As all stories with Mildred go, it starts off innocently enough.

 

“You will prepare a Level Three potion for today’s class. As you are all Second Year’s, this should not be a problem.” Miss Hardbroom’s closes her eyes slowly, as if it pains her to say so. Opening them once more, she stares straight at Mildred. “Should it?”

 

Mildred shakes her head so hard she thinks her braids might fly off. Today is a good day – Mildred can feel it.

 

It’s a Reversal potion. Miss Hardbroom says one sip of the concoction and the object is restored to its true nature. It’s supposed to work on objects that have been enchanted, or objects that have been affected with time.

 

Mildred thinks if she pours this over Ethel’s head, she might just turn nice. But then again, she muses, she doesn’t think Ethel’s _ever_ been nice.

 

“I wonder what we can use this on,” she mutters lowly. Next to her, Enid shrugs and squints down at her spellbook.

 

“Brooms, maybe? Like the one you broke last week. _Again_ ,” Enid says cheekily and isn’t one bit deterred when Mildred sticks her tongue out.

 

“Do that again, Mildred Hubble, and I will personally ensure your tongue remains that way for the rest of the month,” Miss Hardbroom says darkly, head bent over her own cauldron. Mildred shudders.

 

“She didn’t even have to lift her _head_ ,” Maud whispers and shakes her own head. “Let’s just start, please, before we somehow end up back in detention. I have a book I’d like to actually finish on my free time, Millie.”

 

Enid and Mildred share one of those looks that says “ _She’s our friend and we love her but, dear God,_ ” without having to say one thing. At least, that’s how Mildred interprets Enid’s slight rise of her eyebrows.

 

“Eye of newt,” Mildred presents Maud proudly. She rocks back and forth on her heels and smiles impishly at Maud until the other girl breaks into a smile and giggles.

 

“It’s just that it’s a very good book,” Maud explains and takes the jar from Mildred to carefully add it to the bubbling cauldron.

 

“I’m sure it is,” Mildred says and hears Enid snort behind her. “There’s no way we’ll end up in detention today, Maud. Trust me. I have a _really_ good feeling about this potion.”

 

“That’s what you said the last time we got sent to detention,” Enid says, and Maud nods her head fervently.

 

“That’s not true,” Mildred shoots back but Maud is busy looking between the spell book and the cauldron, a frown quickly forming between her eyes.

 

“It’s not eye of newt, Mildred! It’s _leg_ of newt!” Maud says, frantically reaching for the ladle to scoop up the disintegrating ingredient.

 

“Oh,” Mildred says helpfully.

 

“Darn,” Enid pats Mildred’s shoulder.

 

“It’s okay,” Mildred rushes to reassure Maud. “We’ll just start over! We have plenty of time.”

 

She sprints to the ingredient table and grabs the last leg of newt, grabs a handful of random jars so Miss Hardbroom won’t think she’s _barely_ reaching for the first ingredient, and walks briskly back up.

 

Smiling sheepishly at Maud, Mildred hands the jars over and slowly, they work their way through the potion. There’s a slight mishap when Enid accidentally spills apple seeds over the table, but Mildred waves her hands over the table and makes the seeds shake and shake until they finally disappear.

 

“I think it looks blue enough,” Enid says. There’s a smudge of something yellow on her cheek that Mildred stares at with disgust. It might be eye juice.

 

“Are you sure we added three drops of lakeskin and not more, Mildred?” Maud asks. “Ethel’s is pink,” she continues sadly and stirs a little more forcefully.

 

“Then it’s _definitely_ blue enough,” Enid nods pointedly.

 

At that, Ethel, who was rather obviously pretending not to listen to the conversation, turns around from her own cauldron and sniffs daintily.

 

“Our Head of Year couldn’t make a simple Reversal Potion? There’s no wondering whose fault is _that_.”

 

Mildred’s ears burn red and her hands go cold all at the same time. It’s not that she isn’t used to Ethel’s insults or the whispers that she always seems to hear about the lack of witches in her family.

 

It’s that she really _had_ only added three drops. She had been careful! Mildred thinks of Mum, and how she says that as long as she’s trying, she deserves her spot at the school. Just like Enid, just like Maud. Just like Ethel.

 

It’s why she doesn’t say anything, merely curls her hands into fists and takes the ladle from Maud’s hands. She knows if she says anything and Ethel causes a fuss, Miss Hardbroom will only blame Mildred anyways.

 

Enid, on the other hand, has no problem leaning over the table and snapping back a sharp, “You’re the one who couldn’t make a levitation potion because you were distracted by a _boy_.”

 

Ethel’s face goes red and her lower lip curls dangerously. “The potion was correct. Zac even said so himself.”

 

“Was not,” Enid shoots back, crossing her arms. The potion bubbles in the cauldron and Mildred stops stirring and gingerly places the ladle down.

 

“Was _too_ ,” Ethel turns fully, eyes flashing.

 

“Was definitely, positively, _not_ ,” Maud says, coming to stand next to Mildred with her own arms crossed.

 

“Whatever,” Mildred says, suddenly wary of the way Ethel’s nose is twitching. “He’s just a boy, anyways. Why do you care what he thinks?”

 

“Because she wants him to like her, _duh_.” A girl with sleek red hair says. Mildred blinks. Had she been sitting next to Ethel the entire time? “That’s what you do when you want somebody to date you, Mildred Hubble.”

 

“You want to date a boy?” Mildred’s voice goes up incredulously high. “That’s- that’s dumb. Mum says I can’t date until I’m thirty-three.”

 

“That’s a super specific age, Millie,” Enid stops glaring at the girl long enough to send Mildred a slightly amused look.

 

But Perfect Red Hair isn’t listening.

 

“You mean you don’t like boys?”

 

“I like Tabby,” Mildred says, frowning. “He’s the only boy I like, truly.”

 

Maud and Enid move closer to her and she can feel each of their arms brush against hers. Perfect Red Hair’s eyes turn to slits and Mildred, incomprehensibly, feels her heart hammer against her ribs.

 

“Of _course_ Mildred Hubble would be the only witch in this school to not like boys. _Of course_.”

 

“Hey!” Mildred yells, indignant all at once. “Wait, what does that mean?”

 

“It means you’re probably going to be last witch in your family, with the way you’re going.” Red Hair sneers down at her and Mildred is inexplicably reminded of Miss Hardbroom.

 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she says. “I’m the thirteenth witch. My daughter’s going to get to be a witch.”

 

“Millie,” Enid whispers, and tugs at her elbow. Ethel has fallen silent and is looking at Gertrude with an odd tilt of her head.

 

Red Hair barks out a laugh. “Right. You’re probably gonna end up more like that,” she points behind her to where Miss Hardbroom is adding something wet and slimy to her glowing cauldron, “than a respectable witch.”

 

“Okay?” Mildred says, mouth opening and closing slightly. “That’s….a teacher?”

 

She doesn’t understand why Maud is suddenly tugging at the end of her pigtails restlessly or why Enid is glowering at Red Hair with increasing hostility.

 

Red Hair snorts. “People like that _shouldn’t_ be teachers. My mum says Miss Cackle is mad for letting her near the girls at all. That’s why she’s always doing the night rounds, you know. Sneaking past closed doors.”

 

Mildred is growing frustrated. Her cheeks suddenly feel hot without her knowing why and she has the distinct notion that Miss Hardbroom is being insulted, but she doesn’t know _how_.

 

“Miss Hardbroom is a good teacher,” Mildred says stubbornly, because out of everything the girl has said, this is the only thing that makes sense. “I’d be lucky to grow up to be a witch just like her.”

 

“Mildred, just let it go,” Ethel says, looking nervously behind her where Miss Hardbroom is still fully distracted. “Gertrude, let’s test out the potion.”

 

“So you admit it then,” Gertrude leans in. “You want to be just like that.”

 

Gertrude doesn’t say _her_ , or _Miss Hardbroom_. She says _that_.

 

“Like what?” Mildred finally blurts, because Miss Hardbroom is starting to finish up her potion. Mildred knows because she becomes increasingly smug the closer she is to finishing.

 

“A lesbian,” Gertrude sneers. “A _dyke_.”

 

Mildred doesn’t know what that last thing is. But she knows the tone that girls like Ethel take when they really want to make you cry. The tone that Gertrude has taken on.

 

“What?” Mildred mouths to Enid but before the other girl can answer, Ethel clears her throat and speaks.

 

“It just means you like women, Mildred. That’s all. Now, I know your potion is wrong because of the color, isn’t that right, Gertrude?”

 

Mildred doesn’t pay attention to the way Ethel is throwing nervous glances behind her to where Miss Hardbroom is cleaning her hands with a rag. All she can focus on is the heat of her face, almost as red as Gertrude’ stupid perfect hair.

 

“I don’t even know how I like my eggs in the morning,” Mildred says. “And, are you saying- What does it matter if Miss Hardbroom dates women instead of men?”

 

“Because it’s _wrong_ ,” Gertrude says, stands up from her bench and comes around to stand in front of Mildred’s with a funny twinkle in her eye. Maud and Enid take a step forward while Mildred remains rooted to her spot. “Because it means there’s something wrong with her. It’s why nobody likes her. It’s why nobody likes _you_.”

 

“You’re lying,” Maud says loudly, and then uncrosses her arms. “That’s not why nobody likes Mildred.”

 

“Thanks, Maud,” Mildred whispers, rolling her eyes, but Maud looks over her shoulder sheepishly and shrugs.

 

“You know what I meant.”

 

“It’s true,” Gertrude continues, and takes a step closer to Mildred. “She’s a freak. She shouldn’t have ever been hired to take care of children. I can’t believe they let people like you two sleep near us.”

 

_People like you two._

 

Mildred takes a look behind Ethel’s paling face and sees Miss Hardbroom wave a hand over her station to clean it up. Miss Hardbroom is tough on Mildred for reasons Mildred doesn’t fully understand, (but she thinks it has something to do with the fear Mildred had spotted in her eyes when Agatha had used Mildred so easily) but she’s a good teacher.

 

She always tells Mildred where it is that she went wrong. When Miss Hardbroom tells her she’s done a mistake, Mildred doesn’t remember making it twice. With Miss Hardbroom, Mildred learns. Having her teach at any other school would make Mildred feel cheated, somehow.

 

Low in her belly, she feels her anger begin to stir.

 

“I don’t think you should speak about Miss Hardbroom like that,” Mildred tries saying, her voice steady. “Now leave us alone.”

 

Gertrude smirks, opens her mouth and closes it promptly when Miss Handbroom claps her hands loudly.

 

“Time’s up!” Miss Hardbroom hollers. ”Time. Is. _Up_. Maud Spellbody, put down that ladle.”

 

Maud, who had grabbed the ladle rather fiercely sometime in between all the talking, and had been glowering at a smirking Gertrude, uncurls her fist. The ladle clangs loudly to the table. Miss Hardbroom moves around the room to the nearest table to test out the potion.

 

“Don’t let her touch you,” Gertrude mock whispers and flicks her hair behind her shoulder.

 

“Stop it,” Mildred hisses, feels her face go red and her magic bumbling slightly, like it’s going to raise bumps along Mildred’s skin if she doesn’t calm down. She begins turning random pages on her spellbook, hoping to end the conversation there. But the other girl _pushes_ , walks around the table to stand next to a frowning Maud. 

 

“She might turn one of your friends into a little freak. A _mistake_ , just like you,” Gertrude sneers once more. She takes a small step towards the table and Mildred feels her friends stiffen all at once.

 

Mildred, who has been tested time and time again inside this academy, who has been told she doesn’t belong inside these walls and can’t possible catch up to everybody else, who has been told time and time again that she’s simply in the school because Miss Cackle felt indebted, - well, Mildred sees red.

 

“Shut _up_ , Gertrude.” Enid and Mildred say at the same time.

 

“That’s why she’s teaching here, Mildred. ‘Cause they kicked her out of her old school when they found out. She shouldn’t be a teacher.”

 

“I said _stop_ it! Stop!” Mildred whispers harshly back, conscious of the way Miss Hardbroom has moved on to another table and is slowly approaching their own table.

 

Mildred has heard the whispers about mean, old Miss Hardbroom. Has even said a few snide comments about how she’s always so grouchy in the morning. But Miss Hardbroom _cares,_ sometimes, in that odd way of hers _._ Like when she handed Mildred a brand new broom after she accidentally destroyed her own. She doesn’t deserve what Gertrude is implying.

 

“Bats, I don’t even think she should be a _woman_. It must be against the Code to let somebody like her be a witch.”

 

It hurts like nothing Mildred has experienced when she’s told she’s not a real witch. Or the worst one there’s ever been. But failing at being a witch, because of who she loves? Mildred can’t help but come from a non-witching family.

 

And – and neither can Miss Hardbroom, if Gertrude is right. Miss Hardbroom would turn Gertrude into a toad if she ever knew what she was saying.

 

But Mildred, well, Mildred turned Ethel into a pig the last time she tried that. So she does the next best thing, without thinking about the punishment, without thinking about anything other than the stiff, hard lines of Miss Hardbroom’s shoulders as she had let herself be embraced by Miss Pentangle in that empty classroom.

 

She punches Gertrude in her big, red, stupid face.

 

*

 

*

 

*

*

 

And then.

 

Several things happen at once.

 

Gertrude, a witch who has never been in a fist fight, is struck dumb as pain flares down her nose for three and a half seconds, before she surges forward and pulls hard on one of Mildred’s braids.

 

Enid, who has been intentionally expelled from every witching academy within a thousand-mile radius for purely selfish reasons, yells out a loud “Oi!” before lunging across the table to get her hands on Gertrude.

 

Maud, who really was looking forward to reading her book on enchanted beings in South Africa and whose ponytails are a frazzled mess from pulling too hard, grabs the nearest object to defend her dear friend Millie.

 

Mildred, who doesn’t quite understand why Maud is wielding a ladle over her head or how the situation unraveled so quickly, stumbles forward and her cauldron goes tipping precariously.  

 

And Miss Hardbroom, who should really be less surprised that a fist fight has erupted at Mildred Hubble’s station, appears suddenly at the end of the table and can’t quite contain her anger at the sight in front of her.

 

Because directly below her towering frame are four little witches breaking at least thirty subsections of the Witches Code.

 

Enid Nightshade – one knee resting firmly on the table as she climbs atop – has one hand tangled in Gertrude Merryweather’s smock and another dipped rather unfortunately in salamander eye juice. Gertrude Merryweather, tugging sharply at the end of Mildred Hubble’s braid, has her fist raised high in the air. And Mildred Hubble, face scrunched up with righteous anger and pain, has her entire palm pressed firmly against Gertrude’s forehead, impeding the other girl from advancing any further.

 

Perhaps the most surprising sight, however, is Maud Spellbody’s choice of weapon – a ladle raised and aimed firmly at Gertrude Merryweather’s head.

 

In between all four witches is the bumbling cauldron, who chooses in that exact moment to tilt and drop its entire contents on Miss Hardbroom’s shoes.

 

“Mildred _Hubble_ ,” Miss Hardbroom grits out, feels her feet heat up under the black leather of her shoes. “Is this a witching academy or a _commoner’s_ school?”

 

“Crap,” Enid Nightshade shrieks, and promptly falls off the table. Her hands reach out towards the nearest object, which, unfortunately for Mildred, is her only other braid. And Mildred, who is standing quite close to Maud Spellbody, reaches out for her friend and the three girls stumble down the step and end up in a heap at Miss Hardbroom’s boiling feet.

 

“I’m never finishing my book now,” Maud Spellbody mumbles, looking down with disdain at the sticky blue potion she landed on.

 

“Don’t suppose they’ll let you read in detention?” Enid asks, looking up through her eyelashes at Miss Hardbroom, whose left cheek is twitching madly.

 

“Detention?” Miss Hardbroom nearly shouts, hands curled firmly at her side. “Oh, you’ll be expelled for this yet, Enid Nightshade!”

 

“Miss Hardbroom,” Mildred says, far more calmly than she should probably feel. “Why have your shoes turned pink? Was it the Reversal potion? Did we mix it correctly?”

 

Four pairs of eyes drop down to Miss Hardbroom’s shoes, which have indeed turned to a rather disgusting bright pink.

 

Miss Hardbroom’s cheeks turn a rosy shade and before Enid Nightshade can victoriously finish shouting - “I _told_ you it was supposed to be blue!” -  she jerks her hand up and transfers them all to Miss Cackle’s office.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!


End file.
